


Awake

by Ruriska



Series: Sleeping Habits [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, No Beta, Shimadacest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriska/pseuds/Ruriska
Summary: Genji wakes up in his brother's arms.





	Awake

**Author's Note:**

> So sometimes an idea just pops into my head fully fleshed and I just HAVE TO WRITE IT and I'll then smash it out in a couple of hours. I call this the Smut Rush because it's usually has sex in it, haha. This was fun to write, so I'm kinda pleased? I hope you enjoy it! :) Thanks for stopping by!

They rarely sleep in the same bed anymore. It is an old habit that has been trained out of them through the years. As children they would often refuse to go to bed without the other, curling beneath the blankets together and waiting for their parents, their mother with her gentle kisses and their father with his rumbling voice weaving stories of warlords and great battles. 

But time changes all things and Genji eventually found himself unwelcome in Hanzo’s room, banned from what had previously been a sanctuary as his brother was consumed with the lessons of the elders, new marks on his skin, the dragon curse thrumming in his veins. 

The new state of their relationship had bothered Genji at first. He’d fought against this unfair shift, following his brother, interrupting his training and invading his room uninvited. His attempts had only served to drive them further apart.

But Genji had only begun to understand why when it was his turn -- when they strapped him down, the old woman with her wiry white hair and toothless mouth grinning, the needle, the pain, the roaring in his ears, the power pushed deep into his skin, the alien being sinking into his blood.

It had made sense then.

The need for your own space, a way to escape from the burning.

But knowing didn’t bridge the gap.

He drowned his sorrows in sex, drugs and alcohol, chased every thrill to drown out the second heartbeat thrumming through his body. One dragon was a nightmare -- he could only imagine how two would feel. He sympathized but when he desperately wanted to see Hanzo and was ready reach out to him, it was usually after a hit, spaced out on an unknown floor. Something to sob over during yet another high. 

They rarely sleep in the same bed together now.

But sometimes they do.

When they are at their weakest, finding solace in closeness, back to back.

Genji wakes after one such night, the morning sun shining in his eyes and a heavy weight across his chest. There’s someone breathing softly against his neck and for a moment Genji thinks he’s woken in the aftermath of a good fuck, it could really be anyone. But when he shifts his head, it’s his brother’s face, and the troubled ever-present frown has finally been smoothed away by sleep.

There’s one arm and half his body slung over Genji’s chest, powerful well defined muscles, a near constricting weight. They are mere inches apart and Genji can see that Hanzo’s mouth is slightly open. His dark hair rests artfully around his face, a few strands curling against his chest. _Pretty_. 

Genji swallows around the sudden lump in his throat and turns his his head back to the ceiling. He breathes quietly for a time, unwilling to move despite suddenly becoming aware of the overwhelming heat and the itchiness of his skin.

“Hanzo,” he croaks, too low to really be heard but his brother responds anyway. Not by waking, but with a sigh, shifting closer in his sleep, head tucking up beneath Genji’s chin. 

Genji tilts his head further back, Hanzo’s hair tickling his chin.

He can’t really ignore that he’s hard as a rock.

_Just morning wood. Totally normal. Happens to guys all the time._

Except it isn’t just that and the dragons aren’t the only reason they stopped sleeping in the same bed, they aren’t the only reason they fell apart.

Genji’s right arm is trapped but that doesn’t matter. He’s left-handed anyway. 

One of Hanzo’s legs is curled around his own, resting on his upper thigh and startlingly close to his erection. All that does is add to the appeal as Genji moves his left hand along the bed, just the quiet ‘shuuuu’ of movement across the sheets. He hits his leg, palm sweating as he trails it up to where he knows his cock is tenting his boxers.

_Quiet, Genji, careful._

This will be the greatest test of his ninja skills -- jerking himself off next to his own brother without being noticed.

Quivering fingers curl into the waistband of his boxers, easing it up and over the sensitive tip, tucking it down at the base.

His hand is dry where it wraps around his dick, simply gripping and feeling that pleasant ache. Hanzo breathes softly into the sensitive skin of his neck. A wave of heat rushes through his body. Genji fights back a groan.

He squeezes and swirls his thumb in low motions against one of the larger veins and doesn’t even try to pretend he isn’t imagining his hand is actually Hanzo’s. His big brother, so strong, so talented, bearing the weight of the family without complaint. His best friend despite how ruinous their relationship had become.

Genji presses up the shaft, catches some of the precum on his fingers and teases the head. It would be red now, flushed with blood, a pretty sight. He wonders what Hanzo would think of his cock. Would he like it? Would he bend his head, hair slipping over his shoulders, and open his plush lips to have a taste?

The thought makes his hips jerk and he instantly forces himself still, heart hammering in his throat and temples, waiting, listening. The urge to rut up into his own hand is almost overwhelming, his pulse a wild thing, echoed by every part of his body. He can almost feel the dragon stirring, curious.

_Still sleeping._

Holding back has never been his strong suit. When it comes to sex, he usually likes to fuck and be fucked hard, he likes it to be loud and quick, merciless. This slow self-teasing is agony. 

Genji removes his hand, feels the loss almost immediately, travels it up out from beneath the bedclothes and to his mouth. He wets his fingers liberally with saliva, licks his palm until it’s sticky and wet. Getting it back to his cock is a process and he completes the mission with a closed fist, keeping his spit safe until he can slide it up and down his dick.

The first smooth glide is heaven and his breath hitches. 

He begins to jerk himself off but is forced to keep the pace slow. Even so he’s making quiet rustling sounds with each motion. It takes all his effort and will-power to keep his hips from moving, to keep his breathing steady, to not even move his legs. His toes crawl instead, heels rub against the sheets. 

This slow and deliberate pace is taking him apart quicker than anything he’s experienced before.

Hanzo’s weight against him is ever-present in his thoughts, feeling heavier the hotter and more desperate he gets. His breath starts to whistle and catch, shuddering out of his chest. His mouth falls open to take in more air. The heat is unbearable, his need a shuddering, eager beast.

If he could just come, now, now, now.

Except this isn’t quite enough to get him over the edge, so the pressure continues to build.

Genji wants to yell and scream and thrust, he wants to roll over and squeeze his cock between Hanzo’s thighs and rut until he comes. But he can’t, he won’t. All he knows is heat, sweat and lust -- and a part of his brain is marvelling that Hanzo hasn’t woken up yet, when it feels so _obvious_ to him. 

He slips his hand down further, now generously wet with pre-cum, grabs his balls, squeezes them none-too-gently, as if trying to coax them into giving up the goods. They feel tight and ready and he squeezes again, this time to the point of pain, and his whole body jerks. 

Hanzo moves as well. 

So sudden and unexpected that Genji stops breathing entirely. Hanzo’s leg shifts where it’s curled along Genji’s hip, stretches out, soft skin brushing against Genji’s cock. The touch too much and orgasm hits him in an instant, and he knows he’s moaning, a deep, rolling sound but he can’t see past the dark spots in his eyes and the _yes, yes, yes_ chiming in his mind.

His cock jerks again and again, emptying cum onto the bedsheets and dripping down the shaft. Genji doesn’t even touch himself, he simply rides out the moment until he is once again capable of thought. 

The dragon feels satisfied, making his back prickle along the lines of his tattoo. 

His body is quivering, the side of his dick still in contact with Hanzo’s leg, each seemingly innocent movement of his brother sending an additional shiver down Genji’s spine. Too sensitive. He has to move his trembling hand up from his balls, to place it between himself and Hanzo. It only helps slightly.

He’s panting, a little too loudly -- he can’t stay here anymore. He can barely breathe.

Genji starts to extract himself, wriggling sideways, trying to escape. Hanzo is a dead weight, pressing him down into the bed, suffocating. 

Again it is a miracle Hanzo doesn’t wake as Genji pulls himself to freedom, shuffling until he can roll out of the bed and be free of the sheets. The cool air on his skin is a blessing, helping to calm himself, even if his first reaction, now that he’s standing and his cum feels cold and sticky, is to laugh.

The sheets will be a mess. He probably got some on Hanzo. He isn’t sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this one but maybe they won’t need to talk at all. Hanzo isn’t likely to call him out on it.

Genji turns before his completes his escape, one last look back.

Hanzo stares back at him, expressionless, eyes dark. There’s a strand of hair sticking to his lips and he is still in the same position, only missing Genji’s body that he should still be curled around. 

Genji is suddenly aware of the wet patch on the outside of his thigh. It had gone unnoticed during his own rush but now his mind focuses in on it, wonders where it came from, knows where it came from, wishes he’d realised sooner.

There’s nothing in Hanzo’s gaze, no _yes_ or _no_ , no _come here_ or _go away_. Genji feels as though his brother is reaching into his soul with his eyes, shredding it pieces with detached cruelty -- and then leaving it there, a mess, as he suddenly rolls away. He gives Genji his back and his permission to leave.

There’s a drawn out moment, a heartbeat, where Genji is forced to make a decision, teeters on the edge -- and discovers he is not as brave as he likes to think he is. He leaves the room on weakened legs, tucks his spent dick away and chides himself a coward as he rushes away down the hall.


End file.
